


Howl to the Moon

by the story that she wrote (longingrusteddaybreak_thatwouldbeenough)



Series: By the Phases of the Moon [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Harry Potter - Freeform, Lots of OC's, Mystery, Next Generation, Not Cursed Child Compliant, Teddy Lupin - Freeform, Victoire Weasley - Freeform, VictoirexTeddy, nextgen, struggle with self acceptance, very slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-08-18 05:58:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8151464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longingrusteddaybreak_thatwouldbeenough/pseuds/the%20story%20that%20she%20wrote
Summary: It's Victoire's summer before fifth year, and what could be better than spending it in England, hanging out with her favorite cousins and ignoring her infernal, eternally unrequited crush on Teddy Lupin? As it turns out, nightmares often start out something like a dream; in the light of the full moon, anything is possible.





	1. One

It was funny, because if you asked any Weasley, Potter, or Tonks for a story about Teddy or Victoire from childhood, you would inevitably end up hearing the other child starring alongside the first in some far off adventure.

If you asked either of them in more recent times who was most likely to spend time with them, the answer would be quite different.

Teddy’s first year off at Hogwarts had returned him to the Burrow and the Weasleys’ lives undeniably changed, a boy who thought himself somehow different from before, somehow above the girl who had once idolized him.

The girl who still did, if she was being brutally honest with herself, Victoire reflected with some mirth, kicking her feet through the cool water of the pond, Molly’s feet splashing beside her own. Teddy’s judgements still, far more than any of the others, held a more painful weight, a sharper edge, despite their friendship having fizzled out so many year ago. Victoire brought herself back from her musing, focusing on where she and Molly were seated quite comfortably on the dock, a few minutes stroll from the Burrow, while Fred and James swam about in the water nearby. 

The planks of the dock squeaked as Lysander made his way to join them, watching as his younger brother, Lorcan, jumped in to join James and Fred. 

“Afternoon, lassies,” Lysander greeted, sprawling down beside Victoire, “I see you’re both avoiding the chaos of the Burrow this lovely day.” 

Victoire grinned, “Afternoon Lysander, I see you’ve made the same decision.” 

The older boy laughed at that, nodding brightly, making his head thump several times against the deck in quick succession. 

“You’re not going to be too warm in that?” Molly asked, raising a single eyebrow and quirking a lip in greeting. 

Lysander tugged at the high collar of his shirt, adjusting the long sleeves to check they were fully covering him. 

“I’m just keeping safe from the sun,” he said, refusing to meet both Victoire’s and Molly’s inquisitive glances. 

“Of course,” Victoire reassured finally, after several breaths of painful silence. Molly gave her an exasperated expression that simply made Victoire shrug. They all knew, as close family friends of the Scamanders, that some incident had occurred earlier in the summer involving Lysander, but no one had been particularly forthcoming with the details. 

It had been a summer of chaos, if what the Prophet reported could be counted as true, with kidnappings, cursings, and attacks of all kinds being depicted on every page. “The most chaotic time since the end of the War” Victoire often heard the adults whisper. 

Molly’s head shot up at the high pitched shriek that could be heard over the excited shouts of the boys splashing in the pond. Victoire threw her head back and laughed, all too familiar with her younger sister’s willingness to raise her voice to get her point more forcefully across. 

“Is that Dom?” Lysander asked, his tone utterly incredulous, only making Victoire laugh even more, “Tori, how in Merlin’s name do you live with that girl?” 

Victoire let out a snort, sending Molly into giggles. 

“Dominique,” Victoire began seriously, holding her smile back until it only twitched at the corners of her mouth, “is actually rather bearable to live with when one gets along with her. Which, rather obviously, is not something that Teddy’s girlfriend is going to experience.” 

“Teddy?” Molly fake gasped, “Don’t you mean ER, Tori? You know, that’s the only name he willingly goes by now.” The two cousins broke into laughter again, as Lysander rolled his eyes fondly.

“Aye now, Teddy decided to go by ER nearly seven years ago now, can’t the two of you lay off a bit?” Lysander said, repeating the defense that he must have said to them and the rest of the Weasley cousins a million times since Teddy had returned from his first year with the ridiculous new nickname. Such was the burden of being friends with one person and their extended family, which happened to include several estranged friends of that such person.

“Aye now,” Victoire smiled as she mocked Lysander, “I’ll lay off Teddy a bit when he and Andrea lay off me a bit!” 

No one could deny that the two had been rather rude at the mandated family lunch earlier in the day, snapping at Victoire when she had oh so innocently inquired after where exactly they were spending the rest of the summer, since her Papa had previously mentioned that Lavender, Andrea’s mother, had gone to Gringott’s for a special loan, after her muggle businessman husband’s business had gone under. 

And if Victoire’s line of questioning had been driven by the fact that Andrea had been loudly exclaiming how Spain was the best place to live other than England, especially rather than France, and how Teddy would enjoy it so much more, well then no one needed to know the competitive streak that the comments had sparked. 

Lysander sighed at Victoire’s reply, moving so there was room for her to flop back and join him in defeat. Victoire smiled and gratefully joined him, tugging on the back of Molly’s necklace until she finally gave in and joined them, settling her favorite blue pendant back into its proper place nestled at the base of her throat. 

Together the three relaxed on the dock, drinking in the rare sunshine and background noise of their younger family and friends enjoying the water. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Come play hide and seek in the forest with us, Tori!” Lily insisted, tugging on her older cousin’s shirt hem. 

“Give me a second,” Victoire laughed, trying to shove the final bite of sandwich into her mouth, Molly mirroring her action from the other side of the table.

“C’mon c’mon c’mon!” Fred and James chanted as they sprinted by, ignoring their parents’ calls for them to slow down and be careful. 

“Do you make a habit of eating like animals?” Andrea said, cocking an eyebrow from where she sat with Teddy’s arm perched across her shoulders. 

Victoire rolled her eyes, not even surprised at the nasty comment or the way that Teddy seemed to block out anything less than nice that left his girlfriend’s mouth.

“Do you make a habit of looking like one?” Dominique replied, lifting the tip of her own nose with one hand and making pig-like snorting noises as she passed the snobby older girl. Molly laughed at that, and was ushering Dominique out the door after the boys before Teddy could open his mouth.

“Selective hearing can only get you so far, Ted,” was Victoire’s parting shot as she took off after her cousins, Lily at her heels. 

“I’m it! I’ll find you all!” James volunteered the moment they broke into the trees, sprinting to face the largest oak along the tree line and face it.

Victoire and Molly each grabbed one of Lily’s hands, guiding their younger cousin deeper into the forest, weaving around trees and hopping over fallen logs and rocks. They knew these woods like the back of their hands, each generation of cousins using these trees as cover for long winded games of tag, hide and go seek, and make believe adventures. 

“We can show you our secret hiding spot,” Victoire said, speaking softly to ensure her voice wouldn’t carry to other possible eavesdropping family members obscured by the foliage, “but you have to promise not to tell anyone else.” 

Lily nodded enthusiastically, giggling as Victoire and Molly made exaggeratedly quiet and secretive movements towards one of the larger trees in the area. Molly began climbing first, with Lily following her movements exactly, and Victoire following her in case she slipped.

They finally emerged near the top, where the trunk was still thick enough that the bowl that had been hollowed into the top was large enough to snugly cradle all three girls. 

Lily looked about in awe, while Molly and Victoire reclined in relaxation.

This was her place, where she most belonged, Victoire often found herself thinking when she made her way up to this secret tree, that with her closest cousins by her side, in the wild woods beside her grandparents’ home, with the sky nearly close enough to touch, she was able to fully relax and just be. 

She breathed in the cooling evening air, enjoyed the wind whipping through her pale blonde locks, and tried to push Andrea’s scathing comments and mean glances aside, tried to push away the comments that Teddy would inevitably make when they were called in for the night to go home about how she and Molly were too old to be off running through the forest, tried to push away all the family drama and conflict that seemed unavoidable as a Weasley.

Instead, she fixed her eyes on the beautiful full moon, luminescent in the slowly darkening sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. Here we go guys. This is Part 2 of the By the Phases of the Moon Series, so I’d highly recommend reading the prequel: “To Be a Wolf” first, although it isn’t completely necessary, it gives more background on Victoire and Teddy’s past and Victoire’s interactions with some of her family members and her personal past. Updates every Friday night, for chapter 1-5, then probably every other Friday, but I’ll let you know when it gets closer. This story should be complete around 8-10 chapters, but I’ll update everybody as time goes on. Part 3 will go up chapter by chapter after this story is finished (and after a small break). 
> 
> This is tagged and technically Teddy/Victoire but obviously there is a lot to resolve and the romance is far more of a subplot, as you’ll all see in the next chapter. So emphasis on the warning that this is a VERY slow burn, and is largely Victoire centric. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think and follow the story to see what happens next! I’ll ALWAYS respond to reviews in PM’s, and I’m always open to making new friends so feel free to shoot me a message! 
> 
> Sneak Peek from next chapter:
> 
> “Victoire eventually forced her first words in several days from her lips”


	2. Chapter 2

Victoire let out a gigantic sigh the moment she stepped out of the fireplace, finding immediate reprieve in the familiar surroundings of home. The Burrow was wonderful, yes, but Shell Cottage had always been her own home and held a higher place in her heart for that fact, and in this case it had also served as a much needed escape from Teddy’s judgment and the tiresome dance of responding to Andrea’s nasty commentary without drawing more of Teddy’s ire than she already seemed to naturally receive. 

“Why don’t you go pick some blue vervain to add to our chamomile blend to help you decompress?” Fleur suggested, drawing her eldest into a gentle hug before moving on to herd the younger two children up to bed. 

Bill gave Victoire a tired smile as she moved past him in the kitchen to grab the gathering basket, her father stopping briefly to press a kiss to her forehead.

“I’ve just been notified of an emergency at work,” he explained, throwing his coat back on and shoving a rumpled piece of parchment in his pocket as he went “so have a good night.” 

“You too, Papa,” Victoire replied, making her way outside after her father apparated. She hummed as her feet traced the familiar path down to the garden, perched on the top of their cliff, looking down over the ocean. 

She easily found the small plot where the bright indigo flowering plants were thriving, picking a small bunch out and dropping them into the basket by her side, wandering the slightly damp dirt packed aisles of the garden to check on a few of her favorite plants, pausing occasionally to scrunch her toes in the soil beneath her feet and enjoy the salty ocean breeze. 

Victoire had only just turned back and made it to the edge of the garden, Shell Cottage a bit of a distance to her right and a bit back from the cliff’s edge with a single light upstairs illuminated, when she paused suddenly, tilting her head to the side to try and catch the faint noise that had drawn her attention.

She strained her eyes in the dusky lighting, the full moon casting not nearly enough light for her to see clearly into the brushy area that lined the far side of the garden and stretched out along the cliffs to the north. 

Victoire took a steady step back, keeping her eyes on the dark brush, before the snarling growl roared from the shadows. Victoire threw her body around, sprinting for the outline of her home and opened her mouth to scream, but the moment the shriek left her mouth, the ear splitting noise was joined by the sudden clenching, cutting pressure of something biting down on her neck and shoulder, soon joined by sharp ripping to her left arm and leg.

And then, for Victoire, there was nothing. It was as if the world was obscured in a haze. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later, Victoire’s memories would be, at best, a fuzzy jumble of burning pain, her mother’s horrified screaming and the bright streaks of the flurry of spells she sent at her daughter’s attacker. Later, Victoire would barely be able to recall being apparated in her mother’s shaking arms to St. Mungo’s and the gasps of everyone there.

Her clearest understanding of the events that followed her attack, however, came from the graphic images on the front page of the Daily Prophet, laid across her lap in her bed in St. Mungo’s, captured in the very same lobby a matter of days previously. Victoire absently noticed that her knuckles had gone white from her grip on the sides of the paper when Dominique stepped up from hovering in the seat beside her bed to hover standing beside her.

“Tori?” Dominique ventured, gently tugging the paper out of her sister’s grip while Louis watched from Victoire’s other side with a wary gaze “Maman and Papa didn’t want you to see, but I thought you deserved to know.” 

Victoire fixed her gaze on her hands, now clasped in front of her on her lap, her left hand covered in bandages, which continued all the way up that arm, down that side and leg. That wasn’t even mentioning the swath of bandages on the right side of her neck and shoulder and collarbone area, all attempting to force her body to accept the healing salve.

Not that a healing salve could eradicate lycanthropy. 

Victoire’s hands shook frantically at the thought; she had been attacked by a monster, a werewolf, and now she was one. Now she was a monster. Now she was a werewolf.

“How’s Molly?” Victoire eventually forced her first words in several days from her lips, trying to force herself to break the horrifying, hated series of thoughts of what she now was that had played on loop in her mind since she had awoken. 

“She’s alive,” Dominique spoke carefully, “but she’s also suffering from some changes from the attack.” This was more information than had been offered to Victoire since she had awoken, and she quirked an eyebrow at more information as to what had happened to Molly the same night Victoire had been attacked.

“Vampire.” Louis spoke simply, his little eyes far too solemn in Victoire’s opinion. She tried to give him a reassuring smile, but found her own reflection in the blue of his eyes too disturbing, “Monster” a voice in the back of her head whispered. Louis was still young, still innocent, still human. 

“Two monsters in the family then?” She attempted to joke, breaking into coughs from the dryness of her throat.

Dominique tsk’d, practically jumping across the room to grab a resting glass of water and then helping her older sister drink it. 

“Neither of you are monsters,” Louis said before carefully leaning in to give his sister the tightest and most careful hug he could manage. 

“We’ll see,” Victoire replied with a shaky grin, trying not to think about how she would never be able to look in a mirror again without seeing evidence of what she was, how the terrible thing that she had become had also been permanently etched into her skin. 

The world would see, yes, but they had already seen, and would eventually move on from the catastrophe that was the attack on the Weasley girls by magical creatures. Victoire would have to live with this, forever, a permanent reminder that she was the very thing that she most feared.

It made her wonder how a person could exist in such a conflicting duality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here’s the second chapter!! This, that is, Victoire’s struggle with lycanthropy, is the central plotline of the story, with Teddy and Victoire’s drama kind of playing second fiddle to that. Buckle in for the ride.
> 
> As always, please let me know what you think and follow the story to see what happens next! 
> 
> Sneak Peek from next chapter:
> 
> “‘What?’ Dominique demanded, standing up sharply.”


	3. Chapte 3

Victoire tilted her head back, enjoying the sensation of her sister running a brush through her silky hair. It had to be chopped shorter after the incident, the bottoms too matted with blood and tangled from the struggle, but it was nonetheless an enjoyable feeling.

“When is Maman taking us shopping for Beauxbatons?” She said, choosing to close her eyes rather than fix her gaze ahead at the now empty wall space where a mirror had previously perched over her vanity. 

“She mentioned discussing it with us today,” Dominique replied, now taking up weaving tiny braids into Victoire’s hair. 

“I think I’ll be glad for the distraction and the familiarity and distance,” Victoire admitted, forcing herself not to think about the way the satin and silks of the uniform would feel different on the tougher tissue of her sweeping scars. At least there, among the ivory hallways shimmering with the sun’s reflection off the sea, she could pretend for a moment that nothing had changed.

It wasn’t possible here, in her own home, where potions of Wolfsbane brewed near constantly in the kitchen, where all mirrors in Victoire’s general vicinity had been removed after her first time home had resulted in her shattering one upon seeing her reflection, a rare but impressive feat of accidental magic. Such feats seemed to be increasing, however, since the attack. 

“Girls!” Fleur called up the stairs, ignoring Louis’ indignant “Aye, what about me?” 

Victoire ran slid down the stairs after Dominique, more than slightly envious of how her sister’s “edgy” new tops allowed her to show her shoulders and arms, unlike the long sleeved, collared chambray and low turtleneck tops that Victoire had been wearing for what seemed like ages. Dominique didn’t have anything to hide, after all, unlike Victoire.

Fleur met them at the bottom of the stairs, herding them into the sitting room and ensuring both girls received a large cup of another of Fleur’s specialty calming blends before she seated herself across from them, eventually pulling Louis into her lap.

“What’s going on, Maman?” Dominique said, her fingers tapping out a rapid pattern against her tea cup. 

“I ‘ave been talking with the Headmistress and board members of Beauxbatons,” Fleur paused for a moment to smooth Louis’ hair back and take a breath “and they are uncomfortable after this summer’s past events with you returning for schooling this September, Victoire.” 

Victoire blinked, her stomach falling through the floor as it seemed the one thing he had been looking forward to using as an escape, no matter how momentary, disappeared from her future. 

“What?” Dominique demanded, standing up sharply. 

“I know,” Fleur said, her eyes stormy as her Veela heritage peeked out, emphasizing the angry angles of her face, “so I have told them that they should not expect Dominique back this fall, either, or Louis when he is of age. The Delacour family has attended Beauxbatons for centuries, but they will no longer. Gabrielle is pulling your cousins from Beauxbatons as well, Léo had been considering a job offer in America before all of this, and they decided to take it and move the children to a school there. The arrogance of aristocracy has caused France immense trouble in the past, but they seem not to care if they are repeating past mistakes.” 

Dominique sat back down slowly, her eyes wide and face devoid of her usual snarky attitude. 

“Damn, Maman,” Louis voiced for all of his siblings, eyes adoring upon Fleur.

Victoire and Dominique fought it for a few moments, but eventually broke into unrestrained laughter, as Fleur attempted to scold Louis for his language. As her giggles died down, Victoire came to rest slumped against her sister, feeling better than she had in days despite the new growing fear of what escape she would be able to ever find, and what kind of future would she be able to have without a formal magical education, especially as a werewolf? 

“So what are we doing, then?” Victoire asked, voice raspy from laughter, tugging down her left sleeve to cover the tail end of her scars there that carved across the back of her hand in graceful, macabre curling swipes. 

Louis, seeming to catch onto his sister’s growing discomfort with herself, relocated himself from Fleur’s lap to Victoire’s. 

Victoire smiled gratefully, winding her arms tightly around her brother’s little, lithe body and resting her chin on his head after pressing a kiss to his temple.

Fleur wasted no time.

“You’ll be attending Hogwarts.” 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Victoire stumbled out of Twilfitt and Tatting’s, her mother’s screams about the sheer disgusting prejudice of it all still ringing in her ears as Dominique took her by the arm, forcing Victoire to walk with a quicker pace while Louis held onto Victoire’s hand with a frighteningly tight grip. 

The intensity of his grip, Victoire figured, was all for the better as it partially disguised the violent tremors currently wracking her extremities. 

It was one thing to try and deal with your own self-disgust in a nurturing environment such as the one that Shell Cottage had provided, one where you were your only present poison, but another entirely to have to contend with other people’s hatreds on top of your own.

Molly’s worried, extraordinarily pale face swam into Victoire’s vision as she struggled to breath, her cousin taking her into a tight hug as they shuffled into Madam Malkin’s. 

“Shh, Tori, it’s all fine now, it’s all good,” Molly’s voice soothed, it’s pitch off just enough to draw Victoire’s attention off of her panic and into the present.

Victoire smoothed the tips of her fingers over the unsually pale and gaunt planes of her cousin’s cheeks, her darkened eyes, and spotted the scars on Molly’s bottom lip where her fangs must have continually punctured in her earliest nights as a vampire.

On her usual necklace, the pendant was joined by daylight charms on either side, protecting her skin from burning in the light.

“Looks like we’ve both changed quite a bit from the last time we saw one another, eh?” Molly grinned, drawing a teary laugh from Victoire.

“Too true,” Victoire responded, dragging her sleeves under her eyes to wipe away the tears. 

Sufficiently pulled together, Molly and Lucy began helping Victoire and Dominique to gather the uniform basics, long sleeved collared shirts, skirts, tights, and sweaters, while Audrey discussed the rather unique situations the girls found themselves in with Madam Malkin herself. 

“Now then,” the elderly woman bustled in, her measuring tape and pins floating behind her, “Victoire first, if you please.” 

Victoire slowly made her way up to the pedestal, holding her arms out and bending this way and that when requested. Madam Malkin hummed through it all, making notes under her breath of where the skirt would need to be lengthened to cover the worst of Victoire’s scarring on her legs, and where the collar could be brought up and such, finishing with a final measurement for her actual robes and a few packages of extra breathable, climate adjusting opaque tights. 

Dominique’s fitting went by far faster, as did Lucy’s, while Molly’s largely focused on modifying the uniform to hide the large bite mark spanning her left shoulder, collar, and neck, which rather ironically mirrored Victoire’s own bite. Additional spells were cast to prevent blood from staining her shirts, and with a few flicks of Madam Malkin’s wand, the adjustments to each student’s uniform was made, and they were off.

Fleur met them outside with everyone’s books and potion supplies already in her arms, much to both Victoire and Molly’s relief. 

“Why don’t we all go spend some time in your uncle’s shop? If Victoire or Molly need a break they can relax in the backroom,” Audrey suggested.

Molly nodded quickly, winding her arm through Victoire’s as they made their way down a very crowded Diagon Alley. 

The stares and whispers that followed them, Victoire thought, may have been even worse that the Twilfitt and Tatting’s owner’s straightforward hatred. That, at least, Victoire had dealt with on her own. But this subtle, ambiguous curiosity and constant gaze? This was a far heavier presence than she would have ever expected. 

As Louis, Dominique, and Lucy sprinted for their favorite sections of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, Molly and Victoire went straight into the back room, finding reprieve in the relative silence. 

“Things will be better,” Molly ventured, turning her head to look Victoire in the eye from where they were both sprawled across the floor, “Things will be better once September gets here. We’ll go to Hogwarts and everything will be better.” 

Victoire matched her cousin’s tearful smile, and tried with all her might to believe that in a mere month’s time everything could be beautifully, painlessly, normal - even if it would also be entirely, terrifyingly new. 

It was a far off, impossible dream, but one worth holding on to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s chapter number three! Midterms are killing me but I fought through to edit this chapter and get it posted today for you guys! 
> 
> As always, please let me know what you think and follow the story to see what happens next -- also, if any of you are doing NaNoWriMo let me know because I’ll add you as a friend and we can commiserate over the struggle of writing 50,000 words in one month while balancing life!
> 
> Sneak Peek from next chapter:
> 
> “Victoire’s eyes were wide, her emotions a mad mess of half fear and half excitement, as she took in the passing scenery, each second taking her closer to the absolute unknown that was starting over at a new school.”


	4. Chapter 4

Platform 9 ¾ was just as Victoire remembered it, swamped with steam and frantic families trying to ensure their children made it onto the train with all belongings and limbs intact. 

 

Already in her uniform, Victoire stuck close to Bill’s side, Dominique practically attaching herself to Victoire’s left arm, as they dodged through the crowds, trying to find Audrey, Percy, Molly, and Lucy. 

 

“There you are!” Bill finally called, leading his daughters in one last complicated maneuver around a rather large family saying tearful goodbyes. 

 

“Tori!” Molly greeted, brightening up immediately and grabbing Victoire into a tight hug. 

 

“Where are Louis and Fleur?” Audrey asked, drawing each of her nieces into a hug. 

 

“They decided to stay at Shell Cottage, said their goodbyes this morning to make it less of a hassle here,” Bill explained, greeting each of his nieces. Audrey and Percy hmm’ed in understanding. 

 

“Are you ready to see what Hogwarts is like?” Audrey inquired, smiling gently down at Victoire and Dominique. Victoire forced out a small smile, trying to hide the twisting and turning dance her stomach had been doing all morning, tying itself into knot after knot. 

 

“We’ll make do,” Dominique replied, looking around at the chaos with a raised eyebrow. Victoire elbowed her sister in the side, a firm reminder that they ought to be grateful for Hogwarts’ willingness to take them in after Beauxbatons had so rudely refused their return. 

 

A few yards behind Dominique Victoire noticed a flash of a familiar face, turning her head more out of habit than anything else to follow Teddy’s movements. He embraced Andrea eagerly, her Ravenclaw blue lined robes complimenting his Hufflepuff yellow nearly as well as their matching Head Boy and Head Girl badges. 

 

From Dominique’s derisive snort, Victoire gathered that it was as obnoxious and sickening for her to watch as it was for Victoire, though likely for far different reasons. Dominique had been, for as long as her sister could remember, as uninterested in romance as a person could be. 

 

“I’m sure they’ll acclimate wonderfully,” Percy’s declared, drawing both Dominique and Victoire’s attention back to their group just in time for their uncle to turn the conversation over to them. “Have either of you considered which house you think you’ll be put in?” 

 

“Gryffindor.” Dominique replied without hesitation, her posture and tone daring anyone to further inquire why or question her decision. 

 

Victoire sighed and inwardly rolled her eyes. The entire house system was, in her humble opinion, an outdated method that functioned based on the purposeful division of the student body and used this to turn it against itself so that it was easier for the professors and administration to manage the mass of adolescent witches and wizards. What bearing should a hat’s opinion on an eleven year old’s primary personality traits have on deciding a large part of their future? 

 

“Slytherin,” Victoire finally responded drily, smirking at her uncle’s wide eyes and sudden inability to respond, the smirk easily turning into laughter that Molly joined as her uncle’s silence wore on. 

 

Bill’s glanced at his watch, letting a relieved smile at Victoire’s familiar humor unravel. 

 

“You’d all best get on the train now,” he recommended, already beginning to herd the Weasley children towards the nearest carriage “wouldn’t want to accidentally miss the train.” 

 

Percy snorted, much to his daughters’ and nieces’ amusement, “Only an idiot could ever miss the train, Bill.” 

 

The comment spurred even more laughter, Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s escapades from their school days were well known and beloved stories to the Weasley children, and served as a positive end note upon which they bid farewell to summer and their parents. 

 

“Adieu, Papa,” Victoire murmured, taking one last deep breath in her father’s embrace before slipping onto the train and into the carriage that Molly and Lucy had claimed for them. 

 

Dominique followed her sister in a few moments later, sitting close to her side and taking her sister’s hand tightly as they watched the train start.

 

Victoire’s eyes were wide, her emotions a mad mess of half fear and half excitement, as she took in the passing scenery, each second taking her closer to the absolute unknown that was starting over at a new school. 

 

\----------------------------------------------------

 

Teddy had only stopped by their compartment briefly, waiting until they were drawing near to Hogwarts to peek in and instruct Victoire and Dominique on how they would be departing from the norm upon arrival.

 

“You’ll ride up in the carriages with the rest of the second year and up students, and meet Headmistress McGonagall right before entering, she’ll pull you into a side room where you’ll be sorted quietly before the first years,” He had told them, all cool professionalism in his crisp uniform, shiny badge, and carefully monitored expression, “any questions?” 

 

“No, I think we’ve got it,” came Dominique’s sharp reply. 

 

Teddy blinked at her tone, taking a small step back as his eyes flitted from person to person, finally stopping to rest on Victoire. 

 

She turned away, looking out the window, fighting the increasingly familiar itching burn that seemed to crawl over her skin when people looked too closely at her. What scars would they see? And would they be able to see her behind all of them? Or would they just see a poorly stitched back together monster masquerading as a girl? 

 

Teddy sighed and turned on his heel, moving back down the train.

 

“It’s not like he’s been friendly or helpful or kind to us at any other point in the past seven years,” Lucy snarked, “why would we want him to start now?” 

 

Victoire snorted, and Molly cackled. 

 

“You can catch a carriage up with me, Dom,” Lucy offered, “my friend Natalie has a sister who’s a second year Gryff.” 

 

Some of the anxiety drained from Dominique’s shoulders. 

 

“That would be great, thanks Luce.” The cousins bumped shoulders. 

 

While Lucy and Dominique grabbed a carriage Victoire and Molly found another, some of Molly’s fellow sixth year Ravenclaws jumping in with them.

 

“You doing alright, Molls?” One of the girls enquired, settling fearlessly on Molly’s other side. 

 

“Best as can be expected, considering,” Molly responded, one side of her mouth quirking up. Although the girl must have felt the unusual lack of heat emanating from Molly’s body from where she sat, she said nothing about it and seemed utterly unbothered, instead reaching across Molly to offer a hand to Victoire.

 

Victoire shook the other girl’s hand hesitantly.

 

“I’m Abigail Kim,” she introduced, her long dark hair swinging along with her smooth movements, “you must be Tori Weasley.” 

 

Victoire gave a small smile and nod.

 

“Oh, Molly talks about you all the time,” one of the other girls spoke up, “we’ve all wanted to meet you for years!” 

 

Victoire laughed, “Well I hope what you’ve heard has been entertaining.” She and Molly shared a smirk at that, their adventures were nothing if not entertaining. 

 

“They certainly have been,” the girl said, giving a warm smile, “I’m Katherine Acker, but most people call me Kat.” She had wildly curly dark hair, and dark blue eyes, with freckles smattered across the bridge of her nose and high on her forehead. 

 

“I’m Taj,” the boy leaned forward with an easy, slow smile, “and this is my twin sister Teja.” They both seemed very friendly, Teja amusingly short in between the boys on her side of the carriage. She sent a hefty elbow into the other boy’s side, startling him from his dazed, daydream like state. 

 

“Oh!” He exclaimed, jumping in his seat and hastily pushing his glasses back up his nose from where they had slid down, “I’m Tomas Dominguez,” he said, nearly throwing himself across the carriage to exuberantly shake Victoire’s hand, “I’m most excited to be friends with a vampire and a werewolf- my mother, you know, works internationally with humanitarian organizations pushing for better treatment and improved laws for magically affected people and highly intelligent beings that are all too often lumped in with magical creatures.” Tomas seemed to ramble without paying much attention to the people around him’s reactions, because Victoire and Molly freezing up at the words “vampire” and “werewolf” didn’t stop him at all. 

 

“Tomas!” Teja scolded, thwacking him upside the head, “I’m so sorry for him,” she apologized, “his mouth is constantly getting ahead of his mind.” 

 

“Sorry if you didn’t want me to mention that,” Tomas ruffled his dark hair nervously, “I just figured it out earlier and then I was saying it and I figured it might be easier to just throw it out there that we knew but, er, sorry!” 

 

Molly gave Tomas a reassuring smile, “I think we just weren’t expecting it, with how quiet our families have kept things and how the media doesn’t know much.” Victoire nodded, her rapid heartbeat slowing more at the realization that these people didn’t seem to care much that she was a werewolf, that she was the kind of monster that haunted people’s nightmares. How were they so unphased? 

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Victoire ventured, trying her best at a tremulous smile, and was rewarded with the rest of the carriage beaming back at her, and Molly wrapping an arm around her shoulders to give her a squeeze. 

 

When the carriages arrived, Molly walked her to the Headmistress and left for the Great Hall with her friends, all of them giving her well wishes for her sorting. 

 

“How was everyone in your carriage?” Dominique popped up out of seemingly nowhere.

 

“They were,” Victoire paused, searching for the right words, “Very interesting, and very kind.” Dominique gave Victoire a fond smile.

 

“I’m glad.” 

 

“This way, Weasleys,” McGonagall directed them, guiding them into a small room.

 

Dominique took a seat first, the hat sitting on her head for all of two seconds before crying out “Gryffindor”. 

 

Victoire gave her sister a shaky smile before the hat was placed on her own head.

 

Hmmm the voice mused.

 

You would do well in most houses, it can’t be denied, because your greatest hurdle to face will be on the inside.

 

Victoire tried not to think of the pull of the moon, and how close her first turn loomed.

 

Then what house will you place me in? She thought.

 

If confronting these misheld ideas is what will make you stronger, I’ll put you with others fighting the same battle, with ambition and loyalty and drive to match. 

 

“Slytherin!” The hat proclaimed. 

 

\----------------------------------------------

 

Victoire drew Dominique in a tight hug before they slipped into the Great Hall, around the group of anxiously waiting first years, and split apart. 

 

Victoire felt the curious eyes of the hall on her, and the whispers that erupted as she drew close to the table at which sat students similarly garbed as her, in silver and green.

 

She froze briefly, as she scanned the table for an empty seat or a mildly friendly face. A call from a few yards down caught her attention, wrenching her out of her panic.

 

“Oi, Weasley!” A girl with long dark hair and dark eyes in sharp contrast to the pale of her skin waved an arm enthusiastically, forcing the boy seated next to her to make room between them in self preservation. 

 

Victoire hurried over and took the seat quickly, hearing the whispers from the other tables increase at her action. 

 

“Thank you,” she spoke quietly to the girl, fighting back an embarrassed blush at all the attention, forcing herself to keep her head high and ignore what other people were saying, ignore that infernal burning sensation creeping along her neck and back. 

 

“I’m Becca Nott,” the girl introduced, seemingly unaffected by the attention they had garnered, “I’m the only other Slytherin girl in our year.”

 

At Victoire’s look of shock, the boy at her other side spoke up.

 

“I’m Matt Williams,” he introduced, dark corkscrew curls bouncing around his face as he turned to talk to Victoire “and there are five of us boys in Slytherin in our year. There’s still a rather pervasive negative idea about our house, unfortunately, so you’ll find many people are adamant about not being sorted into it.” 

 

“Ahh,” Victoire replied, still fairly bemused about the drama that surrounded the divisive housing system. 

 

“I’m Todd Davis,” the boy sitting directly across from Becca offered a hand, unphased by the Headmistress beginning her welcome back speech, “I’m on our Quidditch team, and we’ve got quite a few open positions this year, if you play?”

 

“I do,” Victoire admitted, “chaser.” 

 

“Perfect!” Todd declared.

 

“‘M Henry Ellis,” the boy sitting across from Victoire piped up, giving a short wave before turning back to the speech, a shiny Prefect badge on his chest, matching the one on Becca’s. 

 

“And I’m Andrew Michaels,” the last boy spoke up, giving a shy grin, “I’m one of the chasers for the quidditch team.”

 

Apparently satisfied with the introductions, Becca jerked the conversation back.

 

“So, how does Hogwarts compare to Beauxbatons?”

 

As the night progressed and the conversation flowed on, Victoire found herself settling down and feeling more hopeful than she had in a long time. Hopeful that, perhaps, she could find some peace here, with these people who didn’t ask too many questions about what had happened to her or what was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And chapter 4 is up! I’m so so so sorry for how late this is- I was out of town last weekend and midterms hit me really hard. I’m really going to try to have chapter 5 up this upcoming Friday. For those of you doing Nano, best of luck with this week’s start! 
> 
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> As always, please let me know what you think and follow the story to see what happens next! 
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> Sneak Peek from next chapter:
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>  
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> “She hastily wiped the tears from her eyes, whispering to Molly 
> 
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> ‘How many of them know?’”


	5. Chapter 5

The routine that Hogwarts provided was a welcome reprieve from the seemingly endless summer of sitting and pondering over what the terrible attacks had wrought on Victoire’s life and her as a person, she discovered. 

 

She found Charms and Ancient Runes fascinating, and History of Magic seemed to be a breeze in comparison to how they had taught it at Beauxbatons. 

 

But by far her favorite aspects of Hogwarts were Quidditch practice, which involved mandatory twice weekly with a separate Saturday workout practice as she had made first line Chaser, and her housemates. 

 

Despite the general maltreatment anyone from Slytherin seemed to receive in the halls, in class, and about the grounds in general, her house had been welcoming and protective from the moment she had entered the Common Room. 

 

“You feeling okay, Tori?” Becca checked, reaching across Andrew where all three of them were sprawled across the couch closest to the fireplace to press her hand against Victoire’s forehead.

 

“I’m fine, just tired,” Victoire insisted, a large yawn punctuating her statement. 

 

“You still feel a little warm, but if you’re sure…” Becca trailed off, finally backing off with a huff when Andrew sent an elbow into her stomach. Becca rolled her eyes and poked him in retaliation, but relaxed her intense examination of Victoire. 

 

Victoire let out a sigh of relief; Becca knew about her lycanthropy, as was necessary since Victoire had to take wolfsbane potions every morning and night before the approaching full moon, and their dorm was the most private way of handling it. To Victoire’s shock, Becca hadn’t been revolted or frightened, but had rather returned with a renewed vigor directed at making sure Victoire was doing and feeling well, or as well as could be suspected. 

 

“First full moon tomorrow night,” Becca whispered from her four poster bed that night, as they both laid in the darkness.

 

“Yeah,” Victoire whispered back, fisting her hands in the sheets and fighting the rising panic at what the full moon would bring, what kind of monster it would make her, wolfsbane aside. 

 

“You’ll be fine,” Becca reassured, making Victoire grin at how the other girl seemed to instinctively know, even without being able to see her, that she had needed those words of kindness. “Do you want me there with you during the night? You know Pomfrey okayed it, despite that nasty other nurse’s objections.”

 

Victoire laughed.

 

“Nurse Abarca-Brown? I’ve had the displeasure of knowing her daughter, Andrea, for a while now, so I’m not at all shocked by their shared poor dispositions. Thank you for offering, but Molly’s already insisted upon staying there, and I think that’ll be enough,” Victoire replied.

 

“Of course,” Becca said, a large yawn cutting her off. “Night, Tori.” 

 

“Night, Becca.” 

 

\---------------------------------------------

 

Victoire woke, tired and sore, to whispers by the foot of her bed in the Hospital Wing. Forcing herself to open her eyes, she blinked in confusion at the sight of her year’s housemates, the rest of the Quidditch team, and all of the Weasleys and Potters currently at Hogwarts beaming at her, arms filled with cards and candies and flowers. 

 

“Morning, Tori!” Came several different voices, as she stared in shock. 

 

Molly laughed brightly and pulled her into a hug, letting Victoire process for a moment. She was awake. She had survived her first full moon. She had, admittedly through a rather painful process, become a wolf. And then she had laid down as a wolf at Molly’s side, and her cousin had petted her and they had fallen asleep. And then she had turned back. And then she had woken up.

 

And she wasn’t the monster she had feared. Wolfsbane had prevented that, and it had done a better job than she ever could’ve hoped. She hastily wiped the tears from her eyes, whispering to Molly 

 

“How many of them know?” 

 

Molly gave her a wry grin, “I’d say most of them have figured it out on their own, with the news of an attack and then you looking weak and ill and then the timing of this all.” 

 

Victoire let out a sigh and let her head fall back before pulling away from her cousin to address the crowd that had amassed at her beside.

 

“Thank you all,” She said, fighting the blush that she was sure had nonetheless spread to the tops of her cheekbones, as she tried to wrangle her messy pale blonde waves into a more manageable bun. 

 

“You gonna be okay for practice on Thursday?” Lola, the seventh year Quidditch captain and Seeker, enquired. 

 

“I should be good for it,” Victoire reassured.

 

“What is all of this?” Came Nurse Abarca-Brown’s screech, “Far too many students in a place meant for healing and rest! Weasley, this isn’t acceptable, too many rules being bent for you in the first place, this will not be yet another! Out! Out!” 

 

Most of her friends darted to hug Victoire and drop off their assorted gifts before running out snickering, mocking the widely hated Nurse as they went. 

 

Molly and Becca, however, calmly took the two available seats by her bedside. 

 

“Each student is allowed two visitors to be present at the same time during the day for the duration of their stay in the Hospital Wing,” Becca recited when Nurse Abarca-Brown looked as if she was going to try and kick them out as well. 

 

Becca jumped into a conversation with Molly about what she should expect in Arithmancy for their next year, while Victoire relaxed back to nibble on her breakfast of toast and tea, observing them with an amused smile. 

 

Molly had been a bit reluctant to hang out with Victoire’s housemates, but after Victoire had sharply reprimanded her for stereotyping an entire group of people who she had no real idea about, Molly had promised to try and get along with them, and she had done so beautifully. Slytherins, Molly had admitted only two days before, were certainly less mean, less scary, and less altogether terrible than she had believed. 

 

Personally, Victoire thought that Molly rather shared a common ambition with her house, although she thought it might take a bit more time for Molly to admit it. 

 

Victoire wrinkled her nose, biting back her giggles, when Lucy dropped off Molly’s own breakfast, Dominique trailing in after her in morbid curiosity. The flask looked fairly innocuous to unknowing, outsider eyes, but everyone present know the liquid sloshing around inside was blood.

 

Molly rolled her eyes at the curious onlookers and downed it in a matter of seconds, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth and giving a little bow after as they all broke into laughter and applause. 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Victoire finished translating the rather complicated piece, setting her quill down and taking a moment to stretch her arms, hearing a few of her joints pop and creak in relief. Matt glared at her finished scroll from his spot across the library table, letting his head flop down with a bang that made everyone within hearing distance send him a glare. Henry and Todd muffled their laughter from their seats on Matt’s sides; Matt’s eternal struggle with Ancient Runes was a well known and well appreciated joke at this point in the year.

 

“Why are you taking Ancient Runes again?” Molly mocked from Victoire’s left side, pausing from writing her potions essay to join in on teasing Matt. 

 

“Oi, leave him alone,” Teja protested, “Ancient Runes makes about as much sense as a flying pig!” Victoire snorted at the mental image, sending Dominique and Becca into muffled giggles. 

 

“Ancient Runes is only that much of a struggle if you’re Teja, Taj, or Matt,” Kat said wisely, smirking at the three mentioned as she finished her own Ancient Runes translation. 

 

“Aren’t you lot going to be late for Quidditch practice?” Tomas enquired, prompting Victoire to look at her watch, let out a curse and practically drag Matt down to the pitch at light speed. 

 

Lola chuckled as Matt and Victoire collided, running out of their respective changing rooms onto the field.

 

“We’re about to do some laps, so on your brooms and let’s go!” She encouraged, prompting Victoire to jump on her new Nimbus 3000 and take to the sky, Matt right behind her.

 

As the wind whistled past her ears and rustled her braided back hair, Victoire couldn’t help but grin, revelling in flying formation with her teammates and improving their movements and passes. 

 

When she was in the sky, it was easy to forget all the problems that waited for her on the ground. Even spotting Teddy sitting in the stands from the corner of her eye couldn’t phase her, Victoire smirked, sending the Quaffle flying past Lola and prompting her fellow Chaser’s cheers, ignoring the infernal flip of her stomach that the sight of him always elicited. 

 

This, she could do, and do well.


	6. Chapter 6

~ 3 months later ~

 

Victoire forced herself to bite into the toast that Lola had put on her plate at her Quidditch captain’s expecting look. 

 

“I can’t believe I’m letting you play when you were,” Lola took a deep breath, eyes darting about at all the listening ears and sighed, “when you were sick only two nights ago. The least I can do is make sure you’ve gotten something to eat before we hit the field.” 

 

“I know,” Victoire admitted, giving in and finishing the toast and sipping at the warm tea in front of her, “I can do this. I’m fine.” She tried to emphasize this by sitting up straighter and putting on a brave face, stubbornly ignoring the headache that still jack rabbited against the front of her skull and the exhaustion that pulled at the corners of her eyes. Every full moon seemed easier, less painful, less of a nightmare, less of a recovery period required, as Victoire herself came to terms with the fact that with the right potion, she was still herself, despite how her body changed, but it still wasn’t painless and without a significant recovery period. 

 

Todd gave Victoire an incredulous look, but winced and ducked his head at her answering glare. 

 

“If you say so, Tori,” Lola said, ruffling Victoire’s messy blonde braid, “but you’d better let me know if that changes.” 

 

“Will do,” Victoire said, trying to reassure her captain with a smile.

 

As the entire team rose to exit out for the pitch, Molly caught Victoire’s eye, drawing a laugh out of her. 

 

The inter-house friendships between Molly and Victoire’s groups of friends had drawn quite a bit of ire - they were going against some segregated status quo as far as Victoire could tell. Molly, never one to shy from confrontation, was draped in two scarves, one Ravenclaw and one Slytherin, as were her friends who weren’t playing in the game today. It garnered them quite a few glares from up and down the length of their table, especially from Andrea’s spot among the rest of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, who were warily watching the Slytherins exit, apparently wanting to wait for them to leave before also departing for the pitch. It would be an interesting game, that much they could be sure of. 

 

\-----------------------------------

 

With a sharp whistle, the game began.

 

Victoire shot into the sky, gloved hands clutching at her broom handle as she performed the complicated maneuver with her Beaters, their looping and swirling dives as they crossed paths disorienting the other team’s players enough for Victoire to receive the Quaffle with little pressure from the other team, putting her in the perfect position to pass it on to Andrew by a hard pass. 

 

He swooped, pulled his arm back and lobbed it towards the posts.

 

The kepper dove but didn’t make it in time, the Quaffle swooped in, and Slytherin was in the lead.

 

Victoire grinned, pumping a fist in the air as her fellow chasers all zoomed together for a congratulatory mid-air hug. 

 

The raucous applause from the rather small section of the audience swathed in silver and green more than made up from the boo’s that were emanating from the other sections. 

 

Andrea bumped into Victoire suddenly, sending Victoire spinning before she pulled her broom back into position.

 

“What was that?” She demanded, noticing in frustration that their referee and flying coach, Katie Bell-Wood, had her back turned to them. 

 

“Just a warning tap,” Andrea smirked, turning her broom to get back in position for the game to restart, “Next time you’ll be hit so hard you’ll see stars- or well, in your case I suppose, the moon.” 

 

Victoire glared, biting back her shock and trying to hide her panic. Did Andrea know what she was? That comment made no sense otherwise- she must have figured it out. Would she tell anyone? How had she even found out- her mother. That damn nurse. 

 

Victoire shook her head, gave Andrea an eye roll, and directed her broom back to her place among her fellow chasers. It didn’t matter. She could figure that out later. For now, Quidditch, Victoire tried to tell herself, knowing that the pounding in her head really only left room for her to truly focus on one thing. 

 

That went out the window half an hour later when, just as Todd seeker caught the snitch, Andrea slammed her bat into Victoire’s side, “while going for a Bludger”, causing Victoire to nearly have quite the nasty fall to the ground if not for Andrew catching her just in time.

 

Victoire groaned as she ended up back in the hospital wing for what felt like the millionth time. Post full moon she was never at her strongest, but this was ridiculous.

 

“I’ll be alright for Hogsmead tomorrow, right?” She begged, looking at Madame Pomfrey imploringly as the woman finished her activating spell to make the potion Victoire had just choked down heal her faster. Bruised ribs and a good deal of pain wouldn’t take too long to heal, she hoped.

 

“As long as you don’t do anything to vigorous or straining,” Madame Pomfrey finally sighed, watching her carefully for an honest agreement.

 

“I promise,” Victoire swore, finally relaxing back in the hospital bed and shooting an amused Becca a thumbs up and conspiratory wink.

\-----------------------------------------

 

Hogsmead was beautiful.

 

Despite the ache in her bones from her transformation and her latest Quidditch-borne injuries, Victoire found herself immensely enjoying the trip.

 

She was tucked between Becca and Todd, with her arms looped through one of each of theirs. It helped fend off the worst of the chill that persistently nipped at their heels, reminding them that winter was well and truly there, as if the impending break from their studies wasn’t reminder enough.

 

“Want to go grab some butterbeers first?” Molly proposed, Kat and Taj walking beside her to meet the group of Slytherins while the rest of their group of Ravenclaws slid around the bend in the path to catch up. 

 

The odd assemblage of the two houses was drawing strange looks from many of the students passing by, which made Becca scoff.

 

“Hogshead’s probably gonna be our best bet,” Teja suggested, “at least most of the people there know to mind their own business.” 

 

They trudged into the building, Victoire sighing with relief when the warm air from inside hit them.

 

“Never got this cold at Beauxbatons, huh?” Dominique smirked, popping up at her sister’s side from nowhere.

 

“Mon Dieu, non!” Victoire agreed, going through the tedious procedure of removing her hat, scarf, gloves, and coat as her companions did the same.

 

“Why is everyone still so shocked to see us hanging out?” Victoire enquired as they settled into a large booth, Molly placing their order with the older man behind the counter who was looking over at the varied assemblage of students with an air of fondness. 

 

“Well,” Tomas cleared his throat, “we’re an oddity for Hogwarts, as far as recent memory on the school body goes. There’s been a sharp division between the houses and the years for quite some time. Gryffindors are typically kept on their own, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs seen as natural friends, and Slytherins are always isolated. It’s taboo that a bunch of sixth year Ravenclaws are hanging out with fifth year Slytherins. So basically, we’re going against everything that’s been socially established on nearly every front.” He grinned.

 

“And,” Becca jumped in, “your favorite person and deliverer of your most recent injuries is one of the top enforcers of those rules we’re breaking. Our first year she snapped at Kat and a few other kids who were making friends from other houses. It’s the way it goes, the second years keep the first years in line and teach them the rules, then those first years become second years and teach the new first years.” 

 

Victoire could only manage to raise her eyebrows even further in shock, sharing an incredulous look with Dominique. 

 

“Ay, dios mio,” Tomas cocked his head to the side, eyes widening, “when you put it like that it really seems like a crazy cult indoctrinating the new generations of members.” 

 

Teja and Taj broke out into raucous laughter simultaneously, making the rest of them crack up as well. 

 

Victoire leaned back, sipping on her butterbeer as Henry, Todd, and Tomas engaged in a lively debate over the importance of spaces for extracurricular involvement and interaction for students, much to the amusements of the rest of those gathered around the table. 

 

“You feeling okay, Tori?” Molly asked, nudging Victoire with her shoulder. 

 

“Yeah,” Victoire gave her a smile, “everything’s just catching up with me, I could use a nap.” She bit back a yawn. Upon further inspection of her cousin, Victoire noted that the circles under her eyes looked darker than usual, her skin greyer. 

 

“Are you okay, Molls?” She checked, nausea swirling heavily at the bottom of her stomach after realizing that her cousin definitely wasn’t as alright as she was acting. 

 

“I’m fine, I promise,” Molly said, squeezing Victoire’s hand, “There’s just been an incident along the delivery line that’s delayed the arrival of my plasma so I’m running a little dry.” She gave a self deprecating smirk.

 

“Would a blood pop help?” Victoire asked, trying to gather all of their empty mugs to return to the bar.

 

“Honeydukes!” Kat exclaimed, catching on to Victoire’s line of thought. 

 

“Why don’t you four go on ahead, then, and you can stop by the Shrieking Shack and show the newbies while we get rid of these mugs and stop by the post office?” Taj suggested, “We can meet you at Honeydukes in a half hour.” 

 

Kat, Molly, Victoire, and Dominique put back on their winter clothes and braved the blast of icy air that met them at the open door. 

 

“I can’t believe we forgot to show you the Shrieking Shack on your first Hogsmeade trip!” Kat bemoaned, practically dragging Victoire along by the hand. 

 

“Well you managed to show me nearly everything else, so you can’t be blamed for missing one little thing,” Victoire tried to reassure.

 

“One little thing,” Molly huffed, “That one little thing that stars in some of Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione’s best stories?” Victoire rolled her eyes at Molly’s indignant response, but reluctantly admitted upon arrival that it was rather interesting to see the place in person.

 

“It seemed scarier in the stories,” Victoire sighed, fighting to keep the corners of her mouth quirking up in a smirk. 

 

Molly turned to her, eyes wide and face rapidly turning red, but her squawk of protest was cut off by a beam of red light hitting her chest. 

 

Victoire whirled, wand out and ready, putting herself right by her cousin’s limp body to face the caster of the curse while Kat covered her back. 

 

The figure was draped in deep purple robes with a smooth mask of silver covering their face, blank except for two holes for the eyes and what looked like claw marks slashed across where a mouth would be. He had an arm around Dominique’s neck, his other arm aiming his wand for Dominique’s neck.

 

“Let her go!” Victoire demanded, eyes zeroing in on her younger sister’s terrified face. 

 

“In exchange for you and the other Weasley,” the voice came out mechanically, with a metallic tinge to the tone. 

 

Victoire glanced warily at where Molly lay in the snow, still out cold. 

 

“What do you want us for?” Victoire said, trying to glean more information out of this mysterious figure. 

 

“No questions!” The figure barked, jabbing their wand, which looked rather familiar now that Victoire was focused on it, into Dominique’s cheek. 

 

“Okay, okay,” Victoire tried to soothe, starting to slowly kneel down to drop her wand, just as Dominique turned her head sharply and bit down on the person’s wand hand. 

 

The person shrieked in shock, letting Dominique go as they stumbled back, just in time for Victoire and Kat to send a volley of defensive spells at them that made the person turn and flee into the dark woods in a flurry of robes. 

 

Victoire threw herself forward to wrap Dominique in a tight embrace, kissing her sister’s forehead while trying to will her shaking hands to stop, still gripping her wand tightly. 

 

“Is she okay?” Victoire asked as Kat stooped over Molly to cast an invigorating spell.

 

“She should wake up in a minute or two,” Kat reassured, grinning when Molly’s eyes fluttered open even sooner than she had said. 

 

“What in Merlin’s name was that scream about?” Teddy came careening into the little clearing, eyes wild and hair windswept. 

 

“Attempted kidnapping,” Victoire replied primly, holding Dominique to her even tighter, fighting the rather inappropriate urge to laugh hysterically at the comical widening of Teddy’s eyes at her reply.


End file.
